


And My Therapist Says...

by ChurroBird



Category: Discord Murder Party (Podcast)
Genre: Gen, I WANNA KNOW WHO MG'S THERAPIST IS!!! SO I MADE THIS, Minor Violence, eileen puts up with her, mg is an angry child, this was really fun to write tho, yes more dmp fanfiction with an oc ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2020-06-24 23:08:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19733545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChurroBird/pseuds/ChurroBird
Summary: “And my therapist says that communication is the key to any good relationship, so I’m going to pass out these survey cards again!”Murder God was standing in the lounge, holding the cards in question in her hands as the Awakened stared back at her.“I’m still wondering, who the hell would counsel a bitch like you?” Vincent commented, glaring at her as per usual.





	And My Therapist Says...

Eileen Donnell liked to think of herself as a rather good therapist.

Sure, perhaps the younger therapists were more favorable for the teens and children coming in, but geez, she was only 42! That isn’t that old.

She was happy in her office, nearby a park. The view outside the windows were lovely, and she had many mementos from past clients and co-workers. Sure, sometimes it got messy with her various clutters of notes and paperwork, but it was pretty great.

But either way, she was happy to help anyone that came in, and that includes millions of years old goddesses that ran murder games.

Oh, right, that.

That story began rather recently, as of the year 2018. Eileen wasn’t new to this field, having been a counselor for many, many years. She had come to embrace the fact that anyone of any kind would come in. But she expected humans, to be frank.

It was approaching 3 o’clock in the afternoon on a Saturday, and her next appointment would be coming up soon. However, the name on her clip board... concerned her.

The time hit 3:05, and her client seemed to be running late. She looked down at her watch, as the door creaked open. She really needed to get those hinges oiled.

As she looked up, her client finally spoke.

“So, you’re that... Dr. Donnell meat sack, right?”

She slowly nodded, looking over the short woman standing by the door. Her black heels were the only things making her below 5’, matching the sheer trim on her red dress. If Eileen looked closely, she could see a small black star emblazoned on the woman’s chest. Notably, there were black lines running from her eyes down her cheeks, pointed ears, and a black substance covering her forearms and hands.

Eileen blinked, wondering if this was just a cosplayer or something more. But, it couldn’t be. After all, there’s no such thing as magic, and she was just overthinking it.

“Ah. I suppose you are,” She took a quick glance back to her clipboard, “Miss... Murder God?”

“Yeah, yeah.” MG- Eileen decided to shorten it- sat on the adjacent couch, crossing her legs as she leaned on the armrest. “So, you’re supposed to... help me or whatever. Since, apparently, I have a,” she bobbed her fingers in a quote, “anger management issue.”

Eileen slowly nodded, a small smile coming onto her face. “Well, I hope you don’t mind telling me about it, Miss Murder God.”

“And then he SHOT ME! Like, multiple times! Gods, I just want to flay that little fucker alive all over again! That’ll show him!”

A year had passed, turning the date into 2019. It was the start of July, on the Saturday at 3 o’clock as per usual. The two had fallen into a routine. The back wall was covered in small holes, from knives being thrown or otherwise stabbed into it. As the sessions went on, less and less holes were forming, but it seems today MG- yes, the nickname had stuck- was particularly angry.

Hissing, the blonde woman threw another black dagger into the wall as Eileen cringed. The daggers always seemed two dimensional, and apparently it wasn’t just her eyes playing tricks on her. But, with everything her client did, she probably shouldn’t question it.

“May I ask who, MG?”

“Vincent! I was taking some needed revenge on Christine, and he interfered! Sure, maybe I cheated, but GODS!” Another knife tossed, and a frown formed on Eileen’s face.

“MG, we have talked about this...”

A huff and a grumble, and the god sat down on the couch. A pout formed on her face. “Yeaaaaaaaah. You said I shouldn’t let my anger get ahold of me, but she was so MEAN to me! She wouldn’t acknowledge ANY of the nice things I was doing for her!”

After a year of knowing each other, and long discussions, MG had lost a few walls. She no longer sported her dress, now wearing red and gray pajama shorts and t-shirt, covered in black stars. She also had lost the perpetually high and mighty, almost arrogant nature she had, becoming more honest with her feelings. Eileen took that as a good sign, even if sometimes the god acted like a total child.

“Well... this seems to be an issue about communication. MG, if you fly off the handle like this, they’re not going to treat you with kindness and respect.”

The pout grew, small fangs glinting in the light as MG bared her teeth angrily. “But they HAVE to show me respect! Those fuckers are my players- pawns in MY game!”

Even with Eileen being uncomfortable with the idea of people being referred to as pawns in the god’s eyes, she had learned better than to confront her about it. She knew the god would, most likely, not actually hurt her, but being at the end of a knife while being threatened was not fun and she would not like it to happen more.

“Well, MG, perhaps they would show you more respect if you understood how they were feelings, and where they were coming from when they say things.”

This quieted the god, her eyes averted from the therapist’s as she instead stared out the window. Eileen took this as a sign to keep going.

“I’m just saying, communication is a big part in any relationship, and you have to be open to hear what they say, and try to work with it.”

MG sat up, finally looking Eileen in the eyes again. “Well then, meat sack, how do I get around doing that?”

The doctor chuckled at the nickname, no longer bothered by it. “Well, how about...”

“And my therapist says that communication is the key to any good relationship, so I’m going to pass out these survey cards again!”

Murder God was standing in the lounge, holding the cards in question in her hands as the Awakened stared back at her.

“I’m still wondering, who the hell would counsel a bitch like you?” Vincent commented, glaring at her as per usual.

She paused, as views of a park through a window and patient smiles from a doctor she much rather preferred than McGillicutty filled her mind. She composed herself quickly, giving a fang-filled smirk to the pilot.

“Well, Vinny, maybe you should get some one of your own, with all that alcohol you’ve been drinking.” He rolled his eyes as she dodged the question.

Passing around the survey cards, she stepped back and looked through a window of the lounge.

Perhaps she should add a park into this space in the Void. That’d be nice.


End file.
